BMOC: The Innocent Ch. 01

This is a stroke story. It's ridiculous and unrealistic. No one is worried about STDs, sizes are exaggerated, everyone is bi (or at least the women are) and people can fuck for hours without chafing. This story has decidedly sacrilegious content—not so much in this chapter, but in the ones to come—so if you don't like that, look elsewhere.

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"I can't see you tonight, David. I've got a guest."

Alyssa sounded disappointed. We'd been fucking regularly—almost daily, really—for weeks now, bringing her roommate Melanie along for the ride when we felt like it. She wasn't the only woman I was fucking, but she was probably the best. Melanie was too docile. Dr. Carrington needed to be abused all the time. Kim shrieked like a banshee; she practically blew out my eardrums every time. And Megan wanted it in public a bit too often for my tastes. Alyssa, though, was different. Submissive to me, dominant toward other women. Inventive and kinky. Tight, fit, flexible, and firm. I don't remember if I had realized it yet, but I was falling for her, at least a little bit.

"I thought you were on the pill for that sort of thing," I replied.

"Ha ha. There's a visiting student staying with me tonight, Kelly something-or-other. I think she'd get the wrong idea about the school if she saw us together."

"Is she hot?" I asked.

"Pig. I haven't even seen her yet; she's supposed to be here in an hour or so."

"Well, if she's hot, call me. We can have a threesome. Unless Mel is there; then it would be a foursome."

Alyssa snickered at that. "You, sir, have a one-track mind. Besides, she's still in high school. Pervert."

"She's eighteen, though, right?"

"Yes. Cradle-robber."

"You probably just want her for yourself. You want to make some innocent eighteen-year-old eat your pussy."

"You know I only do girls to make you happy."

"Oh, really? Then you haven't been making your roommate eat you out every night?"

There was a brief pause, and I envisioned Alyssa's pale skin turning red with embarrassment. "All right, maybe I'm a little bi."

I laughed. "Do you think?"

"Shut up," she said, teasingly.

"All right. I'll have to find someone else for tonight. But really—call me if she's hot."

Even over the phone, I knew Alyssa was rolling her eyes. It came through in her tone. "Yes, sir. Anything you say, sir. Should I dress her up for you, sir?"

"Away with you, woman. Go get ready for your guest."

"Sir, anything you say, sir."

"Hanging up on you now," I replied.

"See you tomorrow, once she's gone?"

"Of course."

"Mmmm, can't wait. Maybe I will get her to eat me," she said, a wicked edge in her voice.

"Harlot."

"Jerk."

"Hussy."

"Enough banter. We'd probably make people sick."

I stuck out my tongue at her. It was a phone call, so she couldn't see it, but it still felt appropriate. "Spoilsport. See you tomorrow."

"Sounds good." We hung up, and I started looking for someone else to take care of my needs for the evening.

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After a half-hour of searching, I was coming up empty. Everyone I wanted was busy or out of town or whatnot, and the rest of my little harem wasn't what I was looking for that night.

That's when my phone buzzed—a text from Alyssa.

"OMG. Want to make her rim me."

A few moments later, the phone buzzed again. This time, it was a picture, a candid shot of her guest. She was kneeling down, looking for something in her backpack, and Alyssa had snapped a shot of her from the side while she was distracted. It looked like Kelly something-or-other was the classic All-American girl-next-door. She was wearing a fairly demure sundress, loose and flowing, hinting tantalizingly at an impressive body. Her hair was a dirty blonde and fell to her shoulders, and she had spent some time in the sun; she was tanned, and a few freckles dappled her cheeks. I couldn't make out her eye color from the picture, but she had lovely lips as well. A cross dangled from a chain around her neck, and she had a simple gold ring around one finger.

Another buzz, another text. "Dumb bitch is Christian though. Wanted to read her Bible before dinner."

I sent her a reply. "Have an idea. Will join you at dinner."

Her answer came back almost instantly. "Can't wait, stud. Will let you know when we're leaving."

About an hour later, I walked into the cafeteria. The delay meant the place was mostly empty; the dinner rush had ended. A few small groups were scattered around the place. I grabbed a tray and got myself a sandwich from the sub counter. I was just paying when Alyssa and Kelly came in. I caught Alyssa's eye and nodded toward an empty table in the corner, then went and took a seat. Within a few minutes, the two girls joined me.

Alyssa was wearing a light blue tank top and tight jeans that showed off her frankly incredible legs and ass. Kelly hadn't changed; she was still in the yellow sun dress, although she'd added a matching headband that kept her hair back. She was fresh-faced, with cornflower blue eyes, and as she sat down I caught a glimpse of some quite nice-looking cleavage concealed by her dress.

Alyssa slid easily into the seat next to me, and her hand went right into my lap, seeking out my cock. She squeezed it through my jeans and I wanted to take her then and there, but I had a plan for the night. So instead I gave her a chaste peck on the cheek and whispered, "Play it cool." Then I gave Kelly my most winning smile and said, "Kelly, right? I'm David." I didn't know what, exactly, Alyssa had told her about me so I left it there.

Kelly returned my smile with one of her own. It was devastating—her teeth were perfect, and she had lovely dimples on her cheeks that were simply stunning. As she sat down opposite Alyssa and me, she replied, "Glad to meet you David. So you're Alyssa's friend?"

"Well, she has more than one." We all laughed politely. "Actually, I'm her youth group leader." That got Kelly a bit more interested. It was, of course, a flagrant lie, but she didn't know that. "We had a meeting tonight, you know."

Alyssa was sharp; she picked up on what I was doing almost immediately. "Sorry for missing it, but I didn't want to be rude to my guest."

Kelly leaned in a bit and said, "Oh, you should have said! I would have come along!"

"Well," Alyssa replied, "I didn't want to scare you off, either. You know how some people are." The girl could have been an actress; she was playing Kelly quite well. But now it was my turn. Alyssa had baited the trap, and Kelly was sniffing around. I was going to have to spring it on her.

"If you like," I said, "we could all go do some study after dinner." Alyssa raised one perfect eyebrow, conveying with the gesture skepticism of my abilities to take some naïve Christian girl and turn her into a bisexual slut in one night.

All right, I tell a lie. She raised her eyebrow, and I didn't really think about what it meant until a while later, when I asked about it and she explained. Hey, I'm narrating a fuck story, not writing a report; relax.

Anyway, Kelly agreed to head out with us. We ate and passed the time making small talk—you know, I didn't know until that night that Alyssa's birthday was days from my own—and when we were done we left for a classroom I knew to be empty, one near the chapel.

The chapel, on my campus, was in Ford Hall—an old building, a replica of some place in Philadelphia. There were only a few classrooms there; it was mostly administrative offices. Most important, from my point of view, was that the hall floors were heavily carpeted and the walls had a bunch of decorative paintings and whatnot—past university presidents, pictures of boats, landscapes, what-have-you. They were frankly a bit ugly, but they absorbed noise very well. And of course the administrative staff had all left for the day hours ago. Put that all together, and you had a quiet room, off the beaten path, where people could do what they wanted without being disturbed. An ideal place, in short, to corrupt some innocent young thing and lead her into a life of sin and depravity.

Truly, one of my favorite pastimes.

Kelly brought her Bible to dinner, for some reason, so she was prepared. She offered to let Alyssa read along where needed. I, too, was prepared. Before dinner, I spent an instructive hour watching videos of Bible studies online, and stopped by the library to grab one as well. I figured that, plus the summer Bible camps I had to go to as a kid, would be enough for me to fake it. Plus if things went to plan I wouldn't need to pretend for long before I had sweet little Kelly on her knees, worshiping a new God.

We stole into Ford Hall and the unoccupied classroom. The room was fairly small, with ten or so desks—the kind where the desktop is attached to the chair, but folds back—and a lecturer's podium. The floors were wood, and the room still had an old-fashioned chalkboard instead of a whiteboard. It was a relic of the early days of my university.

Once we were in, I let my pheromones start doing their thing, working as a subconscious aphrodisiac. I got the sense, though, that I wouldn't need too much tonight; Kelly was another example of one kind of girl I knew all too well. She seemed to be all sweetness and light, but she was high-strung, a bit nervous, and she'd been sneaking glances at me all evening. I couldn't be sure, of course, but I suspected there was a wildcat in Kelly ready to explode (and mix metaphors, I guess).

I closed the door to the classroom and we all sat down in a close circle. "Well, ladies, at the meeting today we were talking about Song of Songs. I understand if you want to cover some other topic, of course." Kelly, dear thing, blushed at the mere mention of this Old Testament book—again, something I'd seen before.

See, Song of Songs is, by the standards of people like Kelly, sexy stuff. The plan was simple: get Kelly in a room, get her thinking about sex, let my god-given magnetism do the rest. Truly, I am a master of subtle, long-term planning.

Anyway, I had everyone open their Bibles and had Kelly read a few verses out loud. She cleared her throat primly and read:

"How beautiful your sandaled feet, O prince's daughter! Your graceful legs are like jewels, the work of an artist's hands. Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks blended wine. Your waist is a mound of wheat encircled by lilies. Your breasts are like two fawns, like twin fawns of a gazelle."

It wasn't much to go on, but would have to do. I stopped her here and asked Kelly why she thought that the speaker was spending time describing his love's physical appearance. We went back and forth for a while—Alyssa joined in on occasion—about interpreting the book as a parable or as literal, and so on. It was boring, and the real purpose of the exercise was to draw out the time Kelly spent near me, taking in a heaping helping of pheromones, and to make her mind turn to carnal matters.

After half an hour, the effect started to become noticeable. Kelly kept looking at me, furtively, eyes darting back down to her Bible whenever she thought I was looking up. Of course, being in a room with me for twenty minutes while inhaling my pheromones would have that affect on most women—some men, even—but I like to think my natural charm and magnetism played a part too.

Alyssa was even further along. She was rubbing her thighs together, unconsciously, and her eyes were locked firmly on my groin. I could see that Kelly had been primed and was now ready for more. Alyssa was no different. That meant it was time to move onto the next part of the plan.

"Forgive me for changing the subject," I said. "But I noticed your ring. Are you married?"

Kelly held up her right hand and showed us the gold band around her ring finger. "This is my promise ring," she said. "It represents my promise not to have sex until I'm married. I'll wear it until a man proposes to me, and then he'll replace it with his engagement ring." She was looking at me as she spoke, and didn't seem to notice Alyssa rolling her eyes at the saccharine little speech.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea," I said. "Forgive me for playing Devil's Advocate—but doesn't it seem odd that the Lord would give us powerful sex drives and make sex so pleasurable if he didn't want us to enjoy it? That seems a bit twisted."

Kelly bit her lower lip as she pondered. I'm sure she'd heard stuff like that before, but right now she wasn't thinking clearly. I kept pushing. "I'm not saying you should sleep with whoever you want. Obviously, be smart about it. "

"This... is very different than what my pastor back home said," she replied.

"Well, I'm not your pastor. But it seems to me that sex is natural and good, and what we've been reading clearly suggests that there's nothing wrong with having and enjoying it. And if you don't have a partner, then at least you can masturbate."

Kelly looked away from me, then, hiding her face behind her hands. I could see a flush creeping up on her, though. "You do masturbate, right?" I asked.

She opened her fingers, looking at me with one eye, and dropped her hands long enough to say "My pastor says I shouldn't... but I do anyway." Then she clapped her hands over her mouth again.

Alyssa chimed in next. "It's fine. We all do it. Anyone who says otherwise is lying." That was God's own truth—hell, I have a little harem and I still jerk off every now and then, just to keep my hand in (if you'll pardon the pun).

I picked up from where Alyssa left off. "Don't worry. We're not into judging here." I went and sat by Kelly and gently took her hands, pulling them away from her mouth and enfolding them in my own. Then I took a gamble. "Tell me about it."

She looked shocked, but didn't try to pull away. Her eyes flickered from side to side, as if she wanted to reassure herself that it was just the three of us in the room. "Really? Isn't that, I don't know, wrong?"

"It's okay. I'd love to hear about it. How do you like to do it?"

"Well... I do it in the bath."

"Go on."

"I lay in the bath and put my legs up on the sides of the tub." Her face was bright red by now, and her breathing had quickened. I kept my eyes on hers, a genial smile fixed on my face. I nodded at her, and she continued.

"Then I turn the water on so it comes down right on my..." she trailed off, clearly searching for the right words. Alyssa supplied them.

"It's okay, honey," she said, sliding sinuously into the seat beside Kelly. Alyssa put one hand on Kelly's shoulder and the other on her thigh. "You like it when the water hits your pussy?"

Kelly somehow got redder, but she nodded at that and looked away from me. "You can call it your pussy," Alyssa continued, her voice breathy and barely more than a whisper. "Or your cunt." She started to stroke Kelly's thigh gently. "Keep going, Kelly. Tell us how you play with your cunt."

"Sometimes if the water isn't enough I rub myself."

"Where?" Alyssa asked.

"I rub my... my cunt." Kelly was rubbing her thighs together now and shifting in her seat. Alyssa's hand traveled further up her leg, and Kelly made no move to pull away from me or stop her. "And sometimes I put things in it."

"What kind of things?"

"I have a hairbrush I like... the handle has these ridges. And one time I used a bottle."

It was kind of sad, really. There are perfectly good devices that work much better than hairbrushes and bottles, and this poor dear didn't have access to them. We only had her for a night, but I was sure we'd expand her horizons significantly before sending her back home.

Alyssa leaned in close. "Doesn't it feel so good when something slides inside you the first time? I know I love it when David enters my cunt." She emphasized the last word; it came out clipped and just a bit harsh, and both women shuddered as she said it. Kelly let out an adorable little whimper and closed her eyes. Alyssa's hand continued up her leg. Kelly's legs were closed, her thighs pressed together, but Alyssa was patient, and she steadily worked her hand in under the other woman's sundress.

I brought Kelly's hands up to my lips and gently kissed her clasped fingers. Her eyes were still closed, but as my lips touched her skin she let out her breath in a long, low exhalation. Kelly's lips were moving; she was saying something, too quietly to be heard. But then Alyssa's burrowing hand found its target. Alyssa's mouth opened in an 'O' and her eyes went wide. "You're practically dripping," she said, pleasantly surprised, and then she leaned in closer, kissing Kelly's neck just under her ear, by her jawline. That's when Kelly's whispers grew louder—she was saying, over and over, "Oh God... oh God... oh God..."

I got up and moved to sit next to her, letting go of her hands. Alyssa and I had her sandwiched between us. Alyssa was using her mouth, her delicious, talented mouth, kissing Kelly's neck, moving up to tease her ear with her tongue. I mirrored her on the other side. While Alyssa kept her hand in place between Kelly's creamy thighs, cupping the younger girl's cunny in her palm, I went higher, and reached across Kelly's chest to rest my hand on one of her perky, firm breasts. And through it all, Kelly kept whispering her little prayer.

Kelly made no move to pull away from us. Her hips were moving—no big movements, but little rolls as she pressed herself against Alyssa's palm. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, white-knuckled. She was breathing fast, and I could feel the pulse in her neck through my lips; her heart was racing. I moved my lips close to her ear and murmured, "Do you want us to make you feel better than you ever have before?"

There was a long pause before she gave us her reply—a small nod, and a whispered, "Yes."

I glanced at Alyssa for a moment and we traded grins, just for an instant. Then we went to work. Alyssa slid her hand up onto Kelly's midriff, just for a moment, then back down—but this time her fingers made their way underneath the waistband of Kelly's demure white cotton panties. Kelly started breathing even faster, almost hyperventilating as Alyssa's slim fingers touched her, no doubt the first time she'd been touched by anyone other than herself.

Kelly bit her lower lip—it was adorable, I can't lie—and finally tried to get hold of her senses. "No... I can't," she said. "I made a promise."

"Just words," I said, between gentle kisses. "Just words. You should know what it is you've promised to give up."

"Not give up—oh--not give up." She was squirming a bit now in her chair, but still not trying to get up or make us stop. As she tried to talk her way out of what was going to happen, her speech was interrupted by more little breathy noises, brought out by Alyssa's skilled slender fingers as they teased and toyed with her. I couldn't see exactly what Alyssa was doing underneath Kelly's dress, but I knew it had to be maddeningly pleasurable, especially for a comparative innocent like Kelly. "I'm—oh god—saving myself," she said, "until—mmmm—until marriage."

I was still cupping one of her perky young breasts, and I could feel that her nipple had gone stiff in my hand. I pinched it lightly and said, "Just think about how good this feels. How our hands on you make you yearn for more. You want to feel like this, don't you? And you want to learn how to make others feel this good, don't you? Your future husband won't want a naïve little girl—he'll want a confident, talented woman."

Alyssa piped up, speaking quietly to Kelly. "Men don't want ladies. They want dirty whores who know how to please them." Kelly didn't reply; her hips were gyrating in her seat, her eyes were closed, and her mouth hung open, lips parted appealingly, her pink tongue just barely visible behind her perfect white teeth. Alyssa kept talking, furthering the seduction attempt. "You're so beautiful, Kelly. It's a waste to hide a body like yours behind concealing clothes. Think how much better I could make you feel if we were naked."